We heard bloodcurdling screams coming from the men'
s room. At first I thought someone was getting raped, butt-fuck style. But the screams stopped suddenly. After two minutes,
Evan VonderLuftwaffennschwarzteneggar emerged from the stall, beating his chest in fury and
pain. His
beat-red ass cheeks told me that there was only one possible explanation: his dumpsteak. I mosied on over to the toilet. Sure enough, what did I behold? A dumpsteak. Bigger than I had ever seen; full of thumb-tacks, raisins, and coated in a thick film of
blood.
'Ouch.' I thought to myself. I made a mental note to never return to Kosta's Greek Diner. And my upper lip trembeled at the thought of passing a dumpsteak as large as
Evan's.